


This Horrid Little Forest

by nelyonelyo



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Fluff, Maedhros is actually happy for once, Russingon (mentioned)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-26 05:16:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14993609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nelyonelyo/pseuds/nelyonelyo
Summary: Finrod and Maedhros share a picnic in Valinor after both have been rebodied after the first age. They chat a little about their current lives.





	This Horrid Little Forest

Maedhros walked down the path, wicker basket in one hand and bundle of fabric tucked under the other arm. He was glad to have the use of both hands again; it made carrying a great deal easier. Life in Valinor again perhaps wasn’t wholly sweet, but he certainly did enjoy having a new, fully functional body. No more scars, warped muscles, or joint pain. No more missing hand.

He paused to look back behind him. Finrod, who invited him to this afternoon outing, had stopped a little while back. He was crouched next to a small brown mushroom, examining it. 

“Nelyo!” he shouted. “Come here! What is this mushroom? I am not familiar with it.”

Maedhros smiled. Finrod had only been rebodied a few years ago, and had not yet familiarized himself with all the new plants Yavanna had thought up in his absence. He walked back over to him and, aside him, bent down to spy the mushroom as well.

“That’s a White Gold mushroom.”

“Why is it named that if it is neither white nor gold?”

“Well, the inside is a very bright white, and it’s the inside that tasted good enough to earn it the comparison to gold! Would you like some?” he asked, though not in earnest.

Finrod stared at the unfamiliar plant, then at Maedhros’s hungry stare at it, and shook his head. Maedhros, seeing this, immediately plucked the mushroom from the ground and popped it into his mouth, chewing gleefully. 

The two walked further down the path to the riverside, and there selected a patch of paricularly lush and springy to place the blanket and sit. Maedhros opened the basket. Its contents, selected by Finrod, were luxurious; truffle and ham sandwiches, two bottles of red wine, and a dozen deviled eggs.  Finrod reclined himself against the basket and drank directly from the wine bottle. Maedhros opened the other and likewise began to sip at it. The water tumbled by silently finding itself momentarily lost in eddies but dredging on diligently.

Maedhros stared at the eggs, which were topped delicately with a sprinkle of paprika.

Finrod looked at him. “Do you eat this type? I know in Beleriand you prefered them raw, but I simply cannot stand watching you crunch them whole like grapes. Even more certainly, I know I couldn’t find myself  _ eating  _ them. I hoped this would be a valid compromise in our food tastes?”

Maedhros picked up one of the eggs and deposited it into his mouth. After a moment taken to eat it, he replied, laughing. “Finrod, you know me better than that! I’ll eat anything. Of course I love these!” The rapid consumption of another egg served as the epilogue to this statement. 

Finrod took another swig of the wine and gazed serenely at the stream and the opposing bank’s forestry. It would usually bother him to not know what those long-leaved trees across him were, or the stringy bushes beneath them, but for the moment he decided not to care. He looked back over to Maedhros, who was making steady process on his half of the egg platter. Seeing his cousin so carefree was a great delight to him, a huge contrast to the stress-wracked oath-bound leader he had known in Beleriand. 

“How did you and Fingon get such a lovely spot of property?” he inquired, still breathing the scenery.

“It was Celegorm, actually! I wanted a very isolated location. Away from the chaos of Valimar, you know? He knows the forests better than anyone. I asked him which region was the least traveled, and he directed me to this section. The humidity, dense underbrush, swampy ground, and high heat make it a miserable place for both hunting and habitation! Fortunately for myself, I love the heat. Fingon keeps his hair braided and doesn’t mind the humidity. I really actually love it here. We didn’t have scrub oaks and sand pines back in Himring. Did you know you can use saw palmetto in medicine? I didn’t! I’ve never seen it before! We have it now though! We have little brown lizards here. I love them. Fingon says to keep them out of the home, but I actually really like seeing them around.”

Finrod wiped the sweat from his brow. “Well,” he exhaled, “I’m glad you like it here. I have to say, I prefer the city and I really see why this place is uninhabited. But, then again, you’ve always taken a knack to surviving where no one should!” He shuffled his clothing slightly to make himself more comfortable in the heat. “Really, Nelyo, how are you surviving this in a full sleeved tunic?”

“I like to be covered.”

“Even just your arms? Even out here? There’s no one to see you.”

“There’s birds," he insisted firmly.

“Fair enough,” Finrod replied, and decided to both drop the subject and pick to a sandwich. 

Maedhros, too, began on his. The pair sat in silence, contemplating the land. 

Finrod swatted away a cloud of visiting gnats. If Fingon agreed to live in this horrid land just for Maedhros, he decided, then Fingon must truly love him. Who would willingly decide to live where the air sticks to the skin and where even the trees look upset? How could the two survive with no markets within miles? Perhaps Maedhros was used to living in wastelands, but Fingon always had a lovely city and castle at his disposal. This must have been quite a change. Why did Maedhros need to live so far away in such a desolate land? Why did Fingon happily agree to this? He decided to ask.

“Really, Nelyo, what’s the use in living here? Why must you isolate yourself? I thought you liked being social!”

“You’ve missed a lot, my friend,” he replied, taking another swig of his wine. “The ainur still aren’t very fond of me here. No one’s quite gotten over the whole oath affair yet, and I’ve not quite agreed to love the Valar again yet. Life in the cities was a bit too dangerous, and I had myself quite a reputation that people would act on. Fingon thought it would be better for me if we moved away. I quit my job there and, well, we moved here.”

“Does he still work? Even this far out?”

“Yes, sometimes. We have a horse. He spends a few days or even a week away at a time, since it’s a long trip back to the city. It’s alright, though. I’ve got company.”

“You do?” Finrod considered this for a moment. Maedhros was never fond of keeping servants. Fingon and Maedhros were both fond of children, though. Could they have adopted an elfling? “Do you two have a child?”

“Goodness no!” Maedhros laughed. “I wouldn’t bring a child into my life. Chickens! I keep chickens. I’ve got a nice fenced yard for them and make sure they’re home safe at the end of the day, so the snakes and lizards don’t get them. Really, though! They’re great. Very sweet girls. They follow me around as I do yardwork. I’ve actually trained a few of them to do tricks. Would you like to see? One of the beige ones can jump through a hoop I made.” 

Finrod laughed, both bewildered by the prospect and delighted to see Maedhros talk on so happily. “I’ll have to see that sometime.”

“You really should stay longer. The stars out here are simply the best.”

“Perhaps I shall!” Finrod declared, dreading however having to come back to this plot of Valinor.

Maedhros tipped his wine bottle back, finishing it. “Thanks for bringing this. We rarely have wine, since we have to carry it all back such a great distance and I can’t manage to make it myself here. Grapes don’t grow right.”

“My pleasure.”

“So, Finrod, have you found something to keep you occupied in back in in Valimar yet?”

“Ha! Must I be occupied?”

“I know you. Your mind and your body are never idle. Surely you have gotten yourself into something.”

“Well, then I must agree that you know me, for your prediction is correct. I pass my time largely in song, as I always have, but I’ve picked up knitting as well. It doesn’t pay, but it doesn’t need to, yes? The Edain taught me new durable stitches, and I’ve been able to remember and recreate them. My friends adore the new technique, as no one else does it here. I love frills and thin sink, but a strong-knit hat has its benefits as well. Would you like one?

“Oh! Yes please! But however shall you deliver it to me?”

“Well, I suppose I’ll have to visit horrid little forest, then, won’t I?”

Maedhros grinned. “It’s good having you back.”

  
  



End file.
